The Gilded Filter
The Gilded Filter The world is viewed through a lens of gold, Where the truth is bought, and the soul is sold. It’s a strange alchemy, a dark design, That turns a crime into something fine. The Veil of the Vested The rich man’s shadow is deep and wide, With enough room for his ghosts to hide. His malice is called 'a lapse of grace,' Polished away by a silk embrace. Money is the curtain, heavy and vast, Protecting the present from a hollow past. The Trial of the Tattered But the poor man stands in a freezing light, Where even his virtues are stripped from sight. If he bleeds, they claim it’s a thirsty show, If he weeps, they say it’s for seeds to grow. They hunt for a flaw in a faultless life, And sharpen the tongue like a rusted knife. The Great Deception It mutes the scream of the broken heart, And tears the fabric of truth apart. It grants the guilty a throne to sit, While the innocent fall in a nameless pit. A currency that buys a brand new ...
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